Look At My Son!
by FlickerInTheDark
Summary: A fluffy, possible series of stories about Alexander Hamilton's time as a father.
1. The Beginnings

**A/N: Here is another fan fiction about Hamilton. I don't know if this will be a series of stories of Alexander's time as a father or just a one-shot, so let me know. Again the characters are based off of the actors, please forgive any historical inaccuracies. Also, this is part cannon and head cannon so please indulge my imagination. Hope you enjoy, reviews are always welcome!**

Before he was even born Alexander would place a hand on his wife's belly when he was reading in bed. Those were the first times he felt like a father. So close to his child and yet so far. Some might have teased him if they had known the lengths Alexander went to be being a loving father even before the birth. He always wished the unborn baby good night and good morning.

"Are you sure there is no way know if it is a boy or a girl?" Alexander said for the hundredth time. He never liked surprises.

"I'm afraid not. This things just happen how they are supposed to," she said calmly.

"I know," Alexander said.

"We will love this child no matter what," she continued.

"Oh, to be sure," he smiled at his wife.

The next day Alexander came home with a sheet of paper. He handed the paper to Eliza.

"Listen, your paper is fine. I've read it now 4 times and I do not believe it could be any better," she said.

"Betsey just look," Alexander said giddily.

She saw it had a single word. Philip. She had never known alexander to not fill an entire sheet of paper.

"Alexander, I do not know if you remember but our child could be a boy or a girl," she said.

"I know. If it is a girl it will be Phillipa," he said happily.

"Why Philip?" she asked.

"Well in honor of your father. For raising the three best women I know. And for allowing me to marry you," Alexander said. He had never had a father and Philip was a great man for raising three girls who he was all close to.

"I think, that would be a lovely name," she smiled.

The next night, after a particularly rough day, Alexander was gifted with the first sign of life from his child.

He was reading something Burr had written, and was particularly annoyed at how it was written, when a thump came from below his hand, that rested on Eliza's stomach.

"Eliza, did you feel that?" Alexander said removing his glasses and turning to his wife.

"I did. That's our child in there!" she squealed.

"This is the best day ever!" Alexander said. But this was just the first of the "best days" Alexander had as a parent.

Alexander had a cradle made from the finest wood. He spent a lot of his salary on things for the baby. Eliza began to worry about the funds they had and said, "I know this isn't pleasant but what if something should happen to the baby? What if the baby gets sick, we won't be able to afford medicine if you keep spending so much."

Alexander got what she meant. He worried too. It was all too common for a child to die as a baby. But Alexander banished the thought. Alexander worked tirelessly to save money but also got home as soon as he could to make sure his Eliza was fine.

Everyday he would rush home, not even debating with anyone who was shouting their opinion in the city square. The moment he got to his door and entered, he would see Eliza rushing about cleaning or mending.

"You should sit down more. You seem tired," Alexander, said concerned.

"Have you seen yourself? Alexander I am perfectly fine, I wouldn't be up if I didn't think it was safe," Eliza said gently.

"Just if anything were to happen, I would never forgive myself," Alexander said looking again at her belly.

The moment Alexander looked down at his son in his arms he knew he was complete. After waiting for hours with his wife in the other room giving birth he finally saw him. Alexander had mountains of work but he could never focus with his wife in pain and the excitement for a child.

He had come home after a particularly rough day, to find his wife missing. He heard a shattering scream from upstairs and ran up to find their bedroom door closed. Just then a midwife came out.

"Your wife is doing lovely Mr. Hamilton," she said quickly.

"Can I see her?" he asked already knowing the answer.

" 'Fraid not sir, wouldn't be proper," she said quickly and ran downstairs.

In his head he was thinking _to hell with being proper!_ He felt pain himself every time he heard his wife scream in pain. He would have gladly taken the pain or be back on St. Croix, just to relieve his poor wife.

His head and shifted sideways as he had fallen sleep in a hard wooden chair, when a light tap landed on his shoulder he was immediately awake.

"Eliza?" he asked immediately to the doctor.

"Perfectly fine. Congratulations, Mr. Hamilton you have been blessed with a son," the doctor said smiling.

Before anything Alexander rushed into the room where his wife laid sleep. She was holding a small bundle and when he sat on the bed beside her she reached for his hand, which he grasped.

"Betsey? Darling?" he asked. He was quite worried; he had never seen his wife look like this. The doctor said she was fine but he still worried. She was pale and hollow.

"Alexander," she sighed.

"Are you quite alright?" he asked.

"Perfect," she said. Her hair was in a messy braid and hair was spiking up everywhere.

Eliza then gently handed their son to Alexander who held the baby away from him.

"You can hold him a bit closer," she said. Although she was tired she never missed a beat.

Alexander brought his son closer and he saw a baby with a mass of hair, "I don't want to hurt him."

"You won't," she said turning over to fall asleep. Alexander stayed like this for an hour. This child was his. This was the purest and best thing he had ever made. He never minded his actions in court or in the government. He had to be heard and would do anything. He knew secretly he was reckless and was the reason people didn't like him, but in this moment this child's opinion of him is all that mattered. To hell with the government, to hell with Burr and to hell with the financial system.

When his son came into the world he was the happiest since he married Eliza. The first time he held his son felt just as good when he stepped off of the ship when he first stepped foot in New York. He ensured Philip was never uncomfortable.

Eliza would wake up sometimes to find her husband gone. Before, the child she thought he was in his study writing some paper, but now she knew he was down the hall in the nursery.

Alexander would wake up, even when Philip wasn't crying, to go check on him. When he checked on his son, it was not just a simple peek. He came into the room, sat in the usual chair and would rest his head on his hands that leaned on the cradle. The moonlight that shone in would illuminate Philip's curls and resting smile. Alexander couldn't imagine he ever looked that way when he was a baby, but Eliza said constantly that he was a spitting image of him.


	2. Eager

**A/N: Short chapter this time, did this one on the fly, so apologies if it is not my usual best. Enjoy!**

When Philip learned crawl, Alexander acted as though Philip was extraordinary and that no one had ever done what he just did. When Philip babbled for the first time, it was as if Philip had wrote a sonnet. Anything new Philip did was a momentous occasion in the eyes of Alexander.

Alexander would sing Philip's praises to anyone who would listen or not listen.

"Burr, sir, Philip is walking!" Alexander had said one day.

"Yes, Alexander, as you've mentioned maybe 20 times today alone," Burr said slightly irritated but maintained a good-natured tone.

"Apologies. But still," Alexander said.

"My daughter, Theodosia, is also beginning to walk and you don't hear me wasting precious time," Burr had reminded Alexander. This was the only time Burr knew Alexander to be off task and distracted.

One evening Alexander was reading a book to Philip when Philip said his first, almost coherent word.

"Did you hear him Eliza my darling?" he said to her. He was now standing holding his son close.

"Yes!" she said happily.

"He said papa!" Alexander exclaimed.

"He is growing up," Eliza said calmly. She did not want to steal this moment from her husband, but Philip had said mama earlier. She had forgotten but now was reveling in her son and Alexander

"He will be a great orator! I can already see it, maybe a lawyer like me!" Alexander said emphatically.

"Perhaps," Eliza said demurely.

"Soon we will be sending him to boarding school!" Alexander said in a rush.

"Slow down. Let's take this one-day at a time. You know it will pain you to send him away," she chided.

"Quite right!" he said kissing her cheek.

Soon, a sister was born. They named her Angelica. Philip was only two but as soon as he could see his new sister he loved her. Eliza was resting in bed holding the new baby when Alexander carrying Philip came in.

"You get to meet your new sister! Is this not exciting?" Alexander said beaming looking at the boy on his shoulders.

Philip gripped Alexander's hair and said, "Giddy up!"

Alexander sat Philip on the quilt next to his wife and then scooted in so Philip was sandwiched between his them.

"This is Angelica, your sister," Eliza said leaning to show Philip the baby.

"Like Aunt Angelica," Alexander said.

Philip looked at the sleeping baby. He reached out and poked his sister in the nose. Eliza was about to scold him for waking Angelica up, but instead Angelica smiled.

Everyone was at ease. Life seemed good Alexander thought.

Alexander looked at Philip and said, "Do you know what this means Philip?"

Philip shook his head no. "It means you are now a big brother! It will be your duty to show her what it means to be apart of this family and to be a Hamilton," Alexander said smiling.


	3. Education

**A/N: Pretty pointless, but I liked the idea. Ignore my historical inaccuracies and potentially out of time frame language. If you have any topics you would like to see covered please leave a comment! Been busy but will try and finish my other works soon! Just you wait, just you wait!**

But soon his son came to the tender age of 7 and could now be sent away to boarding school. Philip did not want to leave his family. He would miss his mother teaching him piano and playing with his little sister. He and Angelica become very close and Angelica almost seemed sadder he was leaving.

His bags were all packed and in the hallway. He would be leaving tomorrow bright and early. His father was personally going to escort him to his new school. Before this he had been tutored by his mother in piano and a private tutor for everything else. Alexander would always bring Philip into his office and discuss politics and things that made Philip's young mind swim.

"And so, we can see how today there are differing opinions on the financial system," Alexander said looking out a window.

Philip was leaning on his hand and was near to falling asleep.

"Philip, son. Are you listening?" Alexander said. He noticed his son's disinterest. It saddened him that his son didn't find politics interesting but he was only seven after all. Alexander had to be reminded by Eliza that their son was a boy.

"You didn't even start your education or have a work ethic like you do now until you were 10," Eliza reminded him gently.

"You're right. I just want him to be prepared, to have had the chance. I want him to at least have had some exposure, so I can say that I didn't fail him, or send him into this world, without the wits," Alexander said.

"Philip will be just fine," Eliza said.

But now it was his last night. They had eaten a solemn dinner. Alexander beamed at his son, while everyone else was saddened by the inevitable separation come tomorrow.

"Son, come into my office," Alexander said when supper was drawing to a close.

"But, pops I was going to practice piano with my ma," Philip whined a little.

"Philip, do what your father say. I don't believe it will take too long," Eliza said shooting a look at Alexander. A look saying _Be brief! Do not take all evening, he is my son too._

"Yes, of course, but a moment. You will have plenty of time to get in a lesson with your mother," Alexander said.

In the same familiar office, Alexander sat down and motioned for his son to stand before him. Alexander held the small boys hands and said, "Son, though it saddens your mother and I to see you leave, I want you to know it is a honor."

"Yes sir," Philip said.

"I never had this chance. Your school is very esteemed, and should provide you with a quality education you deserve, "Alexander said.

"What do you mean you never had the chance?" Philip asked. He knew very little about his father's past and this nugget of information was the most he had received in all his time being alive.

"Nothing important. Nothing for you to worry about Philip. But promise me, you will do your best. That is all I ask of you," Alexander said. Philip noticed his father's eyes were a bit red and wet.

"Do you want my handkerchief?" Philip asked holding his out.

"No Philip, I'm fine. But how did I get a son like you!" Alexander said.

They just stood there for a moment. He had never seen his father like this.

"Now go down to your mother Philip," Alexander said smiling.

"Yes pops," Philip smiled back.

When Philip was 9 years old, he did something that truly brightened Alexander's day. Alexander had been under some stress with Jefferson not listening and himself having a brilliant plan no one would listen to.

Philip was home from boarding school for a short holiday. He sat in his room writing something. He knew it was his birthday, but he also knew he would be celebrating his birthday with his grandfather and aunt Angelica tomorrow. His mother planned a special dinner and was rushing about the house to make Philip's birthday special. Earlier his mother had told him to run along and play while she prepared for that night. Philip was not one for playing. He never was. He was just like his father never knowing when to take a break

"Take a break," Eliza called up the stairs to her husband. He had been in his office since breakfast.

"I am on my way," Alexander called.

"There's a little surprise before supper and it cannot wait," she called

"I'll be there in just a minute, save my plate," he called down the stairs

"Alexander—" she said before she heard his door close

"Okay, okay—" he muttered

"Your son is nine years old today, he has something he'd like to say. He's been practicing all day Philip, take it away—" she said and Alexander saw Philip was standing behind her.

"Yes son?" he asked.

"My name is Philip. I am a poet. I wrote this poem just to show it and I just turned nine. You can write rhymes but you can't write mine!" he said slowly.

Alexander was now kneeling in front of Philip and smiling.

"I practice French and play piano with my mother," Philip continued a bit faster.

"Uh-huh!" Alexander grinned.

"I have a little sister, but I want a little brother," Philip said looking up.

"Okay!"

"My daddy's trying to start America's bank! Un deux trois quatre cinq!" He said in a rush without looking at his paper.

"Bravo!" alexander r said picking up his son.

Alexander always dreamed his son would be a writer. Philip did anything to please his father. That night they were all happy.


	4. How? How could he do this? Part 1

**A/N: firstly, I do not know when Philip found out about the Reynolds pamphlet, nor do I know how he found out. I am making up most of the facts presented here to suit my whimsy. I am assuming a spring holiday as I am currently on one. This is purely fiction so take what I say with a grain of salt, I just had so many thoughts after** _ **Blow Us All Away.**_ **This is simply my interpretation, as I have not seen the show. Note, that this story was originally written in first person, while I have carefully tried to fix it to be third person, I may not have caught them all so apologies. Please enjoy!**

It was the spring holiday and Philip Hamilton was heading back home to New York. Philip was away at boarding school and was happy to be heading back home. He had mates but he missed his family. Philip missed his little sister Angelica and the little ones. They were always so fascinated by his going away. They would usually pounce on him for stories and escapades. His sister Angelica would laugh and later they would retreat to discuss any secrets or deep topics.

He missed his mother of course, she was always ready to welcome him and make him feel like the luckiest boy in the world. Philip was less eager to see his father though. Of course he did want to see him but with his father it would be intense. His time at home with his father would be spent with studies and lectures about government. He knew his father know cared deeply for him but Philip always dreamed of a holiday when he would not be pushed and allowed to relax.

He knew something was terribly wrong when he did not see his mother waiting for him at the front door. His father and all of the children were there. The kids all seemed happy but Angelica and his father looked tired. His father looked about 10 years older, greyer and more lined.

Philip was welcomed and everyone was happy to see him. But when he asked where his mother was before anyone could answer Alexander said, "She is resting."

"Is she alright?" he asked.

"Yes," he said quickly. He then turned and walked up to his study. Philip looked at Angelica and she said she would tell him that night when father was going to be out at some government meeting.

Philip noticed in that moment he did not beckon him into his office to chat. His father simply went into his office without prelude. Philip actually did want to discuss something in regards to a certain girl who caught his fancy. But since he had not been invited it would be rude to barge into the office. No, Philip decided he would have ample time to talk to him later.

It was a few hours before dinner and he wandered the familiar halls. The little ones asked him loads of questions about what Philadelphia was like and how school was. The afternoon seemed like that of any homecoming except without his parents.

That night at dinner was odd. For one Alexander and Philip's mother sat as far away as possible. His mother always sat at the right of his father and Philip on the left. But instead she sat at the far end. She looked incredibly tired but she was happy to see me. The family had idle chatter about school and the lovely weather. Conversation died quickly and dinner was silent. Alexander excused himself without explanation and left. A few moments later hearing the heavy doors close as he left the house

About an hour later Angelica found him in his room and came in. she shut the door and sat in an old armchair. He had not seen her since Christmas and missed her. As children they were always causing trouble but they were always there to get each other out of trouble.

"Hello sister," he said a bit too formally.

"Hello to you brother," she said. She always had a way of connecting with him. They could always talk freely and without tension. She was there every time, Philip ranted about his lessons with their father or every time Philip was being teased at school.

Cutting to the chase he asked, "What is wrong with mother and father?"

She inhaled sharply and said, "Remember a few summers ago when we were all up state with mum, grandfather and Aunt Angelica?"

"Yes," he sad slowly. That was one of the best summers he had known. He had played with Angelica in the water and it was the first summer in a long time, where he could sleep in and lounge.

"You remember how father did not join us? He said he had work," she said calmly.

"That was a lovely summer," he replied.

"Well, he had an scandal," she said bluntly.

"A what?" he said almost choking. He had seen many of his classmates have scandalous interactions with a girl who was not their sweet hearts but his father?

"A scandal. A affair," she said like he was being dumb.

"How do you know?" He asked, "Perhaps it was a rumor?"

Suddenly Angelic burst into tears, "I know it is true because… because he published it."

"In the newspaper? You must be daft, no fool would do such a thing," he laughed trying to believe this was just a terrible joke.

"Yes. It was everywhere," she sobbed harder. If it were anyone else besides his sister he would have scoffed. But Angelica was the most honest person next to his father apparently.

Philip was in shock. He turned to the window and suddenly realized he was standing how his father stood during lectures. Hands folded behind his back and feet together. He had said it was from his military days. Philip immediately changed his posture. Right then he wanted to look nothing like the father he had always tried to emulate. His father who was so smart and brilliant had gone off and committed this act of social suicide? What would his mates think if they ever caught wind? In Pennsylvania and in the small school that was in the far outskirts of Philadelphia where news never traveled that far.

Philip grew so angry that he believed in that instant he could kill his father. He always looked up to him. No one else held the place in his heart as being the single best person then his father. He was always speaking about how to be a Hamilton and "uphold the name". He lectured me about how Philip needed to take his shot and how much he did for him so Philip could live this life. But now, anything he said was fragile like dust. Philip felt betrayed.

He comforted Angelica who now looked like she was when she was five. His mother was already so emotionally ruined and Angelica didn't want to make the situation worse so all this time had kept it on the inside.

"Aunt Angelica stayed for a bit. She had to return home briefly to put her affairs in order. As soon as she can she will be living with us," Angelica said.

"Wish she was hear now," he said.

"You should have heard her. When she first came she was absolutely furious! She marched right up to father and told him plainly what she thought," Angelica said.

"I bet she was," he said. Aunt Angelica was the fieriest person he knew, she was the only one he knew to win a debate against his father.

He heard the door close and Angelica said, "He's home."

"Is it always like this? Him leaving so early?" he asked.

"Yes. He is hardly home. Mother and him never speak. He sleeps in his office. They only ate dinner together because you're here. Mum takes her meals in her room and the rest of us eat like before," Angelica says.

"I'm going to speak to him," Philip said.

"No you mustn't! He will be angry. Whenever I try to speak to him he just tells me to leave him," Angelica said.

"He will listen to me. If he doesn't I will make him," Philip said and got up. I don't care what anyone thinks; I need to speak to him.

Philip left his room and head downstairs. All the while he was thinking of what to say. Soon enough he come to his door. He knocked out of formality and entered.

"Philip," his father says. His face has aged and he looks worn down. This only slightly made Philip feel sorry for him.

"Father, tell me everything," Philip said trying to keep his tone calm. I never called him father, I always called him Pops, but Philip did not want anything close to friendliness to be conveyed.

"Who told you?" his father asked tiredly.

'Doesn't matter. Just tell me," Philip asked again, this time harsher.

"Not now," he said.

"Yes right now!" Philip nearly shouted.

"Quiet! You will wake your mother! She hasn't been sleeping and I would appreciate if you would wouldn't disturb her," he hissed.

"Oh, and who caused this?" Philip asked angrily. He had never spoken to my father is such an abrasive way.

"Son, you wouldn't understand," he said quieter.

"Father, I am 19. I know a lot more then you would think," Philip said.

"It was an act of political sacrifice!" he said abruptly.

"Sacrifice? What would you know about sacrifice," Philip said. The words were out before he knew what he had said.

His father looked up, "How dare you ask tell me I don't know what sacrifice is."

"Father please just tell me," Philip resumed, "You will tell the whole state, your secret but not your son?"

"Philip, my son. I am not sure if anything I say will make sense," His father sighed. Alexander knew he could not keep this a secret. Now from his pride and joy. The one he had promised to stay true to, back when Philip was just a baby.

 **Stick around for part 2 to this chapter!**


	5. How? How could he do this? Part 2

**A/N: So I am planning on making this the end of the series. I hope you enjoyed. In this work Alexander is explaining his affair. I am not condoning what Alexander did, but simply writing it how I think he would have felt. Sorry for such a long update! Please ignore any historical inaccuracies and spelling. My usual editor is on break. Enjoy!**

"Son, when you were away with your mother and siblings, I did something irreprehensible," his father said slowly. He wasn't sure how he was going to say it. He still saw Philip as the small 9 year old that made up rhymes.

Philip nodded. He knew this much. Who hadn't known?

"Listen son, I was under stress. My career was on the line and was not at my best self. One night I heard a knocking at the door. I opened it and a woman in red was standing there," he continued.

Alexander noticed his son's expression. He knew his son wasn't a fool. He knew what was next but if he did not recount the affair he knew his son would be forever lost. But he knew nothing would be the same.

"Well she told me she was in trouble. That her husband, a Mr. James Reynolds, was mistreating her and that she was in financial and personal trouble. So I gave her the some money, $30 dollars roughly," his father said sadly, "I thought I was done at this point. In fact I had every intention to be done, but…."

As his father continued, his son's face continued to fall. His son, who had always looked to him, was now looking at the floor.

"The first time I made an honest vow to never see Maria again. But words mean little on the lips of one who is intoxicated. And son she was intoxicating. She made me feel young but it came with such guilt. She kept my writing from being written, she became suffocating and I was searching for a way out until her husband cornered me," he said weakly.

That letter had struck him to the core with fear. He had kept trying to stop seeing her but every time he walked past her house he felt compelled to knock. And she often came by for a "chat" only to find her in bed with him.

"Son, I was weak. But you have to understand, I had to get my plan through congress. I couldn't stop. Maria came in a time when I felt I was getting too old for the game. She made me feel confident in what I was doing," he exhaled.

"Ma was there. Why did you never tell her how stressed you were? Did she mean nothing?" Philip quipped. His mother was quite simply the best mother Philip could have ever hoped for.

"Your mother. I should have. But Maria was powerful…"

"Stop! Gods are powerful, she was a human and you are human. You could have done something!" Philip said sharply, "No excuses!"

His father just looked down at the same spot on the floor Philip had been looking at. Philip's words stung more then the press.

"Thank you father."

"Philip, please forgive me. My son, to see your shame for me is too much…"

"I'm not your son!" he shouted and walked out. He had always done what his father wanted and now, this was something Philip could not condone. His father should be held to the same principles he had always been told. How could a man he looked up to his whole life, hurt his mother.

 _Let him feel shame. He deserves it. Clearly no one else has made it clear how wrong he was._

Philip felt small pangs of guilt for shutting his father out, but in this instance he was not going to give his father, the forgiveness. Forgiveness in this instance could only come from his mother. Philip knew he would never forgive, but his mother might.

Heading down the hall he saw his parents room. He knew what lay behind the door.

Knocking on the door Philip said, "Ma?"

Silence came. Philip knew his mother was inside. If he were a child he would have never entered. His father had a rule about being perfectly polite. _God, he was so worried about making me into the perfect man, but now I see. He didn't take a word of those long lessons!_

"Ma, I am coming in," he said slowly opening the door.

Inside he saw his mother by the fireplace. She was throwing paper in. There were no tears, but simply anger.

She jumped back from the fireplace as if she hadn't been doing anything.

"Philip!" she exclaimed. She put on a face of delight but he saw the dark circles and the stress.

"Ma," he said coming to her and kissing her on the cheek.

Then her face settled back into despair. She was just looking into the flames.

"Ma? I'm here now," Philip said.

"I'm being foolish. I shouldn't be hauled up in here. I should be out with you, you haven't been home in so long," she said setting down her papers and cupping his face.

"No, no ma. I would have come straight here if I had known. And I don't blame you at all!" Philip said urgently. He didn't want to make his mother feel worse, "I would do the same thing!"

"I'm sorry, " she said beginning to cry. Eliza felt so weak; nothing was how it was supposed to be. Her son shouldn't be comforting her, she should be comforting him. Her Philip wasn't small anymore; she couldn't hide his eyes from the drama. He was not doing what she should be doing.

"What are you doing?" Philip asked.

"It's nothing dear. I'm just clearing some stuff."

Philip noticed the papers were love letters, and then he saw the box. The box his mother kept his father's letters. When he was 13 he had snooped through his parents room. His father had scolded him but now Philip wondered if it was his snooping or if it was because his father wanted to be the only one who could unleash secrets.

Philip didn't say anything, If it had been him, he would not handle it as well as his mother. Philip thought he would destroy his room or punch the wall. He thought he would scream from the rooftops his anger.

"He's a bastard!" Philip angrily muttered.

"Philip," his mother said in a warning tone. She herself was of course very angry but she still would not stand for language.

"Apologies. But how can you be here simply burning his letters? Why aren't you writing your side of the story?" Philip asked, "Or shouting from the roof?"

"Unlike your father I chose not to fan the flames. I cannot very well leave your father so I will instea remain silent so this can be over as soon as possible. I'm erasing myself from the narrative. Your father's ways, as we have seen, are destructive. I will not bring this family more shame by being foolish like your father. The Hamilton's do not need to be further thought of as a blot on a page," his mother said looking into Philip's eyes.

"I wish this was over Ma. I wish we are like we were when I was a child."

"No one more then me wishes the same way. But we are here," she sighed, "I am still here for you children. But your father is on his own."

They both stood by the flames for what seemed hours. The embers eventually began to die and Philip slipped out. His mother was back in her trance again.

NEXT WEEK

Philip was in town speaking to some ladies when one of them brought up George Eacker. He had heard Eacker speaking ill of his father a lot. Some part of Philip flared when he heard his name. He knew his father deserved it but it was still his father. He would be a bad son if he didn't try to defend his father.

"Ladies, I'm lookin for a Mr. George Eacker, made a speech last week, our Fourth of July speaker. He disparaged my father's legacy in front of a crowd

I can't have that."

"I saw him just up Broadway a couple of black, he was going to see a play," one girl chirped.

Philip bid good day to those ladies and went to where they pointed. He found the theater and easily found Eacker's box.

"George!" Philip called loudly. Many a patron turned an irritated eye toward him and Philip blushed.

"Shh! I'm tryin' to watch the show!" Eacker shout whispered back.

Ya' shoulda watched your mouth before you talked about my father though!"

"I didn't say anything that wasn't true, your father's a scoundrel, and so, it seems, are you," Eacker said jovially.

"It's like that?"

"Yeah, I don't fool around. I'm not your little schoolboy friends."

"See you on the dueling ground. That is, unless you wanna step outside and go now!" Philip said loudly.

"I know where to find you, piss off I'm watchin' this show now," Eacker said as everyone shushed them, "Excuse us. Blame him."

Philip marched home. His father's legacy would be tarnished but at least he would have a proud son.

"Pops, if you had only heard the shit he said about you. I doubt you would have let it slide and i was not about to…"

"Slow down," his father, said rubbing his forehead.

"I came to ask you for advice, this is my very first due. They don't exactly cover this subject in boarding school."

"Did your friends attempt to negotiate a peace?"

"He refused to apologize, we had to let the peace talks cease."

"Where is this happening?" his father asked tiredly. He seemed much older now and not as full of bluster as he once had.

"Across the river, in Jersey," Philip said pointing in the general direct.

"Everything is legal in New Jersey!" they both said dryly.

"Alright, so this is what you're gonna do. Stand there like a man until Eacker is in front of you. When the time comes, fire your weapon in the air, this will put an end to the whole affair," his father said moving toward where he kept his gun.

"But what if he decides to shoot? Then I'm a goner," Philip said frantically.

"No, he'll follow suit if he's truly a man of honor. To take someone's life, that is something you can't shake. Philip, your mother can't take another heartbreak. She's been through too much."

"Father!"

"Promise me," his father insisted.

"You don't want this young man's blood on your conscience. When I was in the war killing other young men like myself was one of the hardest things. I was too young to understand life had meaning."

"Okay, I promise," Philip, said letting his father's words sink in.

"Come back home when you're done. Take my guns, be smart, make me proud, son." Philip could feel the weight of the gun. The cold metal sank into his hands and he felt powerful.

"You won't regret this," Philip said behind him.

It was odd. Philip shouldn't feel this loyalty for his father but he was Alexander Hamilton's son. Notorious big mouth and bombast, but he was still his father. Nothing would change that. It was about restoring honor. His father had always been his beacon on how to behave and he knew his father would defend him just the same.

If any slander came about Philip, knew in a heart been his father would be at his side not matter what he did. Philip could have committed murder and his father would still be his ally. Philip knew family stuck up for each other.

As he made his way to New Jersey he stood tall. He was going to bring the family's legacy back.


End file.
